Kissed by Winter
by Kurojouou
Summary: Rhaegar and Lyanna's actions start a civil war, but it does not end at that. And peace comes at a great cost. For them and for those that follow.
1. Prologue

**Prologue**

It had started with that _damned_ song.

Lyanna reached behind her carelessly to find purchase, but the Prince's kisses were as rough as his face was gentle. He tugged her closer to him, and opened her mouth effortlessly with his tongue. He smelled of ashes and _roses_ ; like the crown he had given her, which was now tucked inside the pages of her favourite book. It would wither in days, she was sure, but those roses had already harmed what was there to be harmed.

"Lyanna," he whispered, and it was so _sweet_ that she whimpered. She had never in her life heard such a gentle voice. She was of the North: a she-wolf of winter, and the North was not a place for gentleness and sweet-spoken men. If someone were to tell her three days ago that she would soon be losing her mind and swooning over a Prince with the voice of a bard, she would laugh at the incredulity of it.

But the moment he had sang that song at the feast, her heart had _melted_ , as if he had been playing at her heartstrings instead of the strings of his golden harp.

He kissed her gently on her brow, giving her time to catch her breath. As she harshly took in air and delved her fingers into his silvery hair, Rhaegar reached down and fumbled with the hem of her nightgown. His hands reached inside and Lyanna stifled a cry when his fingers made contact with the skin of her thigh.

She closed her eyes in bliss.

Lyanna loved her family, she truly did. She loved her father, and Benjen and Brandon, and her sweet Ned, and she would be ashamed to even think of bringing dishonor upon them and the house of Stark.

But she was not able to stop him, _or_ herself. He had put her under a spell, as silly as it sounded to her ears. Her heart was filled with a longing she had never before felt for a _person_ , let alone a man.

"My Prince," she whined, when his hand rubbed her over her breast.

Lyanna was not used to warmth, and she had blown out all the candles except one, in search of a little of the cold in the chambers where she slept. The flame danced wildly, and Lyanna tried to keep her eyes open and mouth closed when Rhaegar pressed himself against her. She was a maid, and inexperienced, but she knew enough to recognise his arousal. The soft thrust of his hips against her centre sent a jolt of pleasure through her body, and Rhaegar kissed her harder, sucking the swollen red of her lips.

"Let me have you," he asked.

Lyanna wanted to say no, for the love of her brother and for the honor of the North and her own, but she could only nod her head. Her body had betrayed her, _terrifyingly_.

Her took her to the feathered, and between his kisses turning from rough to soft and so on, Lyanna could barely hear her own voice that spilled from her lips like a strangled cry.

Rhaegar Targaryen took her once, twice and Lyanna melted exhausted in his arms. The candle burned off and so did her pleasure, as she ran her fingers over his chest, sculpted and bare. She raised her head to speak of something, but Rhaegar had fallen asleep, with a contended smile on his face.

Before drifting off to sleep herself, Lyanna heard him murmur about dragons and fire in his sleep, and in her own dreams, saw them both walking together, with a trail of blood following them.


	2. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1**

The journey back to Winterfell was tiring.

Lyanna's mind wouldn't stop worrying. They had left the morning after her rendezvous with the Prince, and things had not went on smoothly. Rhaegar had wanted her to stay, and he had almost went to the point of threatening her. It had been Brandon's intervention that had stopped his bold advances.

Lyanna had never been more thankful to her brother. Shockingly to her, the moment they had woken up in each other's arms the morning after, the sweet words from Rhaegar's mouth were gone, and he had instead started murmuring about dragons again, and suddenly started to rub her belly. He had told her something in High Valyrian, which she had not understood, but they way he had stared at her belly had scared Lyanna.

"My heir," he had whispered once in Westeros dialect, running his fingers over her flat belly. Lyanna had pushed his hand away, and brought it to her lips to kiss it. But her advances had been interrupted by him, and Rhaegar had took the moment to kiss her belly and leave her chambers. Lyanna had dressed as fast as she could, and ran to Brandon, and one look at her and her brother had known something was bothering her.

It was Brandon who had reminded the Prince that Lyanna was a Stark, and not someone for him to keep, when Rhaegar had told him that he wanted her to stay in the capital for a few moons. It was only the Prince who was present then, and Lyanna knew that neither his father nor his wife had known of anything that had come to pass between them. Brandon had refused, and the tone of his voice had made Lyanna realize, not for the first time in her life, of the wildness in her brother; it was so strong that she was astonished at times at the way he managed to keep calm. She had not half his wildness, even if she had more than necessary. When Brandon was angry, there was little that could keep him from bursting out. Lyanna had held his hand all the time he had spoken to Rhaegar, but he had not lost his composure. Rhaegar was the Prince, after all, and Brandon may be wild, but he was no less wise either. At last, Brandon had been able to get away from him. It had been possible due to King Aerys, whose unawareness had been used as an advantage by him. Rhaegar may be the Crown Prince, but he wasn't King. When Aerys asked his son why he wanted to keep Lyanna, Rhaegar had to give him a small and ineffective excuse and that had helped Brandon to get them all out of King's Landing before the Prince could get another opportunity to confront them.

"Cat would be ecstatic to see you," Lyanna told Brandon, speaking for the first time to him since they had started on the Kingsroad. Other than him, none of her brothers knew about her and the Prince. She need not press Brandon to keep it a secret; he always had kept them all.

A small but happy smile spread across his handsome face. Her brother loved his wife. Catelyn Tully and Brandon Stark had been married three moons ago, beneath the Heart Tree. Due to a minor sickness, Catelyn had to stay behind in Winterfell with their father, while she and her brothers had rode South. Brandon had not wanted to leave his wife, but Cat's insistence had changed his mind. From his face, Lyanna could see that he was full of joy to think he was going to see her again. She realized with sadness that her attraction to Rhaegar had not been that strong. She had almost stopped thinking of him like she had that night: as a handsome, gallant prince who seemed to love her. Rhaegar had changed, and Lyanna regretted it.

But more than that, she regretted letting him bed her.

"Do you love him, Lya?"

Brandon's voice brought her to the present, and she wasn't even surprised by Brandon's timing of questioning her: just when she had been thinking of Rhaegar Targaryen herself. She always thought that Brandon had a way of knowing what was going on in her mind. Magic or just instinct, she did not know.

"You know I don't, brother," she confessed. "But I was wary when he tried to stop me from leaving."

"Do not think too much of it," Brandon assured her. Lyanna looked back and saw Benjen and Ned riding behind them, talking among themselves. Ned threw her a radiant smile when he saw her, and Lyanna waved at him.

"You don't have to worry about anything," Brandon said again. "I will see to everything. But if I may, go to the Maester as soon as you reach Winterfell. You would not want to give the Prince any more reasons to lay claim to you."

Lyanna nodded and whispered a thank you. They would reach Cerwyn soon. She wondered if Rhaegar's seed had already taken root inside of her.

She gently stroked her belly, and instantly regretted it when Brandon caught the action with his eyes, and gave her a long stare.

"I will do it, Brandon," she told him with resolve in her voice. She did not want her brother or anyone to get in any more trouble because of her.

Cat's hair shone like the summer sun as she ran towards them with a flight in her step. Looking at her, Lyanna could be sure that the sickness had left her. Brandon laid a kiss on the back of her hand and Catelyn smiled her best smile. Lyanna hugged her.

"I've missed you, Lya," she said, and Lyanna clasped her hand in her own. Catelyn had turned out to be the sister Lyanna had always wanted. Though her ways were more gentle and more like a highborn Lady than Lyanna's would ever be, they had taken an instant liking to each other.

"Welcome home, daughter," her Father said, and kissed her on her forehead. Lyanna felt her lips tremble. She wanted to ask for forgiveness of her father for what she had done, but for that she would have to tell him everything. It broke her heart that she couldn't. She had never kept a secret this grave from her family.

Brandon and Cat seemed to be impatient to be alone inside their chambers, and after a small conversation, they both bid them all a good night and retired. Her father kept asking Ned and Benjen about the tourney, and after a while, Lyanna excused herself too, saying she was tired and needed rest. She pressed a kiss on her father's cheek, and two each on Ned's and Benjen's.

The little vial with the moon tea lay on her nightstand as Lyanna sat on her bed. The strong smell of tansy had invaded her senses, although it had yet to make her uncomfortable. She fidgeted with the edge of the furs on the bed as her breathing grew rampant. Lyanna had went to the Maester with confidence and asked for it. The old man had given it to her at once, and nodded his head when Lyanna had told him to not say a word of it to anyone. It wasn't an unusual thing for Lyanna to make people listen to her. She knew more than half of the people of Winterfell by their names, even the little boys and girls with dirty hair. Even those inside the castle were terribly fond of her, including the Maester.

But now the vial lay without even a drop of it consumed. Lyanna closed her eyes. She did not want to dishonor her family, or the North. She did not want to raise a bastard. She knew of the life a bastard had to endure. She was even _scared_ : to have a child at all.

But she did not want to kill the first child that would thicken in her womb. She did not want to be a murderer. She had lost her maidenhood by choice. She had laid with Rhaegar by choice. And she had always loved children, and had always thought that she would love her own pups someday. She was a wolf, and wolves never killed someone of their pack. And even if the child was yet to be born, it would be part of her pack as much as her own family.

She paused. She did not even know yet if she had indeed conceived, and she could be worried for nothing. Perhaps she was _not_ with child. Perhaps Rhaegar had not been able to.

She opened the vial, and took a long breath. She took it in her hands and smelled it once, scrunching her nose at the strong odour. And then she opened her mouth and emptied.

But _half_ of it.

 _I'm leaving it to you_ , she prayed to her Gods, as the taste ran across her tongue. _Whatever it is you decide for me, I'll accept it._

The next morning she woke up early and emptied the other half outside. Her tongue still had the faint taste of mint in it, but she washed it down with water.

And a week later, the Gods had their choice known. Lyanna missed her moon blood and had morning sickness for three days until she went to the Maester and realized that she was indeed with child. The Maester looked fearful that his medication had not worked, but Lyanna assured him with a hand on his arm that it had.

She held her stomach and smiled sadly. It seemed that there would be a wolf pup in Winterfell soon.


	3. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2**

Rhaenys was fond of animals. On her second name day, Rhaegar had given her little black kitten, and the little girl had never been been happier. She had named it Balerion, and had taken to feeding the kitten herself, although for half a year she had had help from one of the kitchen maids. She used to chase the cat around the castle giggling and laughing. And Elia used to reprimand her, although Rhaegar knew that his lady wife did not mean a word of it. Rhaenys had always been a little kitten herself since birth: running around the castle with her soft laughter and bringing him and Elia any trinket she would find. Rhaegar loved her more than anything, and the little babe Aegon, who was not even a month old yet and used to weep and weep in his father's arms unless returned to his mother's. Aegon had his features: silvery hair, light purple eyes and a gentle face. Rhaenys looked more like her mother, not that it mattered. Both the babes seemed to, however, prefer their mother's company over his own. Rhaegar was saddened by it, but he blamed in on his duties as a Prince, and more so he blamed it on the King.

Elia had always assured him that their children loved them both equally, and Rhaegar tried to take her kind words to heart. Elia had always been so very kind to him. She might not be the recipient of his love, nor may he be hers, but they understood each other completely. Rhaegar had found a companion in Elia that he had craved since his birth. Viserys was but a little boy, even if he was always running around Rhaegar and kept asking him for stories. Elia was a friend to him; a better friend than anyone had ever tried to be.

That is why it pained him to betray her in such a way. He had dishonored her in such a way that perhaps after knowing the truth of it, she would never bear to look at him again. He would perhaps lose his only good friend in the world.

But Rhaegar knew that it was required of him. That he needed to have his seed grow in Lyanna's womb, and he needed that child. He would not deny that it had been lust. He had wanted her the moment he had seen her for the first time. She was so different, Lyanna. Her eyes were wilder than any woman he had ever seen, and her laugh still reverberated somewhere in his mind.

Elia was too sickly to bear him another child, but the dragon did not have only two heads. The dragons _cannot_ have only two heads. He needed the third. He needed his _Visenya_.

His father grew restless day by day. The King had started showing symptoms of their ancestral sickness: madness. Rhaegar had seen it for quite a long time now, but it seemed that it was getting out of control now. Rhaella tried her best, but the Queen had been subject to innumerable horrors at the hand of her husband, and sometimes Rhaegar wanted to stab his father himself for the sake of all that he had inflicted upon his mother, kinslaying be damned. He barely listened to Rhaegar's counsel, and most of the times, he even tried to keep his son _out_ of meetings. Rhaegar, however, had the love of the people like his mother did, if not more. But only that was not enough to keep his father in check, and certainly not to keep his madness from growing.

Jon Connington, Ser Dayne, Ser Jaime and Ser Barristan gathered around him in his chambers, and Rhaella sat to his right. His mother gently put a hand on his shoulder, and Rhaegar looked at her with sad eyes. Her cheeks were red. The King had mistreated her again.

"Son," she called him gently. Rhaella was so good at hiding her own pain, that Rhaegar sometimes wanted to cry for his mother. And sometimes he did. Most of all, he was ashamed that being the Prince and heir of the Seven Kingdoms did not give him enough power to save even his mother from the King's cruelty.

"You do understand that this is dangerous," she reminded him. Rhaegar looked at Ser Barristan, and from the look on his face, he knew that the knight agreed with his mother. "Your father loves you as his son, but he will not hesitate to punish you for treason the moment he learns of this."

"I have no fear of punishment," he declared. He knew that his father would be enraged, but Rhaegar doubted he would hurt him. Viserys was but a boy, and Rhaegar knew that Aerys did not want Viserys as heir. According to the King, the little Prince was too fond of his mother and less fond of himself, and he did not want an heir who did not respect him. Viserys, was in fact, terribly fond of his mother, and once when Aerys had held Rhaella forcefully, Viserys had thrown a stone at him and it had hit the King on the shoulder. He had been ordered to not be given dinner for a week, and bid to sleep alone in a darkened chamber without the Queen. Of course, Rhaegar had intervened and sent him the best of foods once Aerys had fallen asleep, and also spent the night with the boy. But Rhaegar knew one thing for sure, that Viserys despised their father with every bone in his body, even perhaps, more so than Rhaegar himself. Aerys, too did not like the boy, and in turn had punished Rhaella, accusing her of not disciplining him enough.

"Are you with me, Ser?" He asked Barristan, but turned to look at every one of the men. Barristan and Arthur were wise men, and they knew of the danger of letting Aerys remain in his seat for too long. Jon was Rhaegar's most trusted friend, and Rhaegar knew that wherever he'd choose to go, Connington would follow.

Ser Jaime Lannister was not someone Rhaegar had expected to be in the group. The young Knight had accidentally heard him and Arthur speaking, and he had to be confronted about it. As strange as it seemed to him, Ser Jaime had declared his loyalty to him, and promised him of his secrecy. After a few days had Rhaegar truly learnt the reason for his fealty. Tywin Lannister, his father, was being relentlessly pressed by the King to pay the crown thrice the amount of taxes, just for the sake of getting more coin in the treasury. When Tywin had respectfully refused to do so, Aerys had started to view him as an enemy, and it fell on Rhaegar's ears that the King was aiming to have the Lord of Casterly Rock declared as traitor and had plans to remove him from power and worse.

It was then that Rhaegar had realized that his father's madness was now starting to affect even the noble houses, and he had to take action for the sake of the realm and for his own house.

A knock sounded on his door and Varys walked in. The eunuch bowed, smiling, but Rhaegar could see the distaste in the faces of the Knights toward the Master of Whisperers.

"Your Grace," he said to Rhaegar. "May I speak in private?"

"Is it important?"

"Yes, your Grace."

"We'll talk of this later," he addressed everyone. "I will see the High Septon tomorrow."

They turned to leave. Rhaella pressed a kiss on top of his head and Rhaegar took her hand to kiss it. He needed to do this for his mother. He had to.

When it was only him and Varys present, the man bowed to him again.

"News of Winterfell, Your Grace."

Rhaegar's eyes shot up instantly. He motioned for him to go on.

"My little birds have told me that the castle has been in uproar. Lyanna Stark, Rickard Stark's daughter, is rumoured to be with child out of wedlock. There has been no mention of who the father is."

The glint in Varys' eyes proved otherwise. There was nothing this man did not know.

Rhaegar gripped the arms of his chair so tightly his knuckles turned white. His child. His seed. His _dragon_.

"Bring me ink and paper, Varys," he said, urgently. He was filled with warmth. Finally, he would have the third head of his dragon. His _Visenya_.

The eunuch nodded.

"And these letters will be received by Lyanna Stark only, and no one else."

"Of course, Your Grace."

The eunuch left to do as he was bid, and Rhaegar leaned back in his chair and let out a sigh. The matter of the throne was all but gone from his mind, and he started to think of Lyanna. He had to bring her to King's Landing. Elia would understand, she would _have_ to.

A month, and Lyanna had not answered even one of his letters. He had sent her three, and as each one went unanswered, his patience grew thin. He had taken her for a headstrong girl, but not so much that she would refuse to see sense. He was ready to claim the child as his own. He would legitimise him, and he even promised to take her as his second wife if she were to only agree to come to the capital. He had promised her everything: the life of a Prince for the child, for it to grow up with love, and for her to live as a Princess of the Seven Kingdoms. But Lyanna had been steadfast, and had refused to reply with anything. Rhaegar almost had the mind to ride to Winterfell and claim her and the child as his own, but he knew the repercussions of this. Bringing her to King's Landing would bring no less harm to their reputations, but he had no choice. It was his child, and it belonged where the throne was, and near its brother and sister.

He wanted the child to grow up with Rhaenys and Aegon.

So he wrote again to her. If in vain, he did not care. Lyanna might be stubborn, but he wouldn't take her for a fool. She should know that their child deserved it. He deserved more than living as a bastard.

 _Lyanna,_

 _You have to let go of your stubbornness and listen to me. You know that what I offer is best for the child. I do not want a life of shame for him. He needs to know his father and his family._

 _You must see sense. Come here. I will save you from a life of dishonour. You and the child, both. No matter, what you think, I care for you. I know I have acted impatiently, but you leave me no choice._

 _Before this gets worse, and I have to go Winterfell myself to make you come here, please heed my advice. I mean nothing but good. I need to be a father to my child._

 _Rhaegar._

This was one of the very few times Aerys had specifically asked for his presence in a small council meeting. Rhaega entered and bowed good-naturedly to his father, but he knew something was not right. The King looked furious, and seemed to be more so as he kept looking at Rhaegar.

He felt uneasy; fearful, whether his father had any notion of what was going on. About Lyanna, or perhaps about his other plans about the throne.

A while later Varys walked in and Rhaegar knew that something bad was coming.

"Rhaegar." The King's voice echoed through the room. Beside him, Jon Connington looked tense.

"Would you mind telling me, son," Aerys said spitefully. "Why have you been sending letters to the North secretly?"

Rhaegar turned to Varys, and the man only looked at the Prince apologetically. Had he betrayed him? Rhaegar doubted he would. He had Varys' loyalty as much as he had Connington's.

"Your Grace, I-"

"Enough with your treachery!" The King rose from his seat in anger, the lines on his forehead protruding. His eyes turned dark violet, and Rhaegar knew that he was enraged. "You would dare to think of overthrowing your own father from the Throne?!"

The look of surprise was evident on his own face and also on Varys'. So it wasn't about Lyanna or the child.

"Father-"

The King interrupted him again, by walking across the table towards him at a maddening pace. The Knights tensed and Rhaegar saw them flinch. The Prince or the King. Who would they protect?

But Rhaegar had no intention of fighting.

"Have you been plotting with Rickard Stark? Who else is in your little scheme? Tywin Lannister? The Dornish?"

Rhaegar kept silent. Saying anything at all would worsen the situation. Aerys was not a man who took it lightly when someone talked back to him.

"You are fortunate to be the heir," the King declared. "But not your allies. I have summoned Tywin Lannister and Rickard Stark to King's Landing. They will answer for their treason."

"Father!" Rhaegar's voice rose more than he had intended it to. "They had nothing to do with it! They knew nothing of my plan."

"Enough of your lies!" He growled, and moved to walk past him.

"Father! They had nothing to do with it," he insisted, even if half of it was a lie. "I plead guilty. I take responsibility for my actions. But you cannot punish innocents. It will divide the country."

"I decide what I do," the King spoke in a grave voice and looked at him once again before leaving. "You're not King yet, Rhaegar Targaryen."

Rhaegar punched the table before him.

"This will undo _everything_ I've done," he whispered. He regretted that he was so obsessed with Lyanna that he had let himself stray from his main goal. And now his father was on the verge of splitting the Seven Kingdoms apart with his madness.

He rushed to the Sept. The High Septon was engrossed in prayer, but Rhaegar did not have the time to wait anymore.

"Your Holiness," he addressed the man. The Septon was surprised at the unwanted interruption and was clearly displeased about it.

"I know you are wary of my intentions regarding the Throne, but as I have previously told you on numerous occasions, my father is on the brink of ruining Westeros. He has made some horrible decisions and I believe we do not have much time to lose."

The Septon stared at him for a while, then shook his head.

"I understand that you mean well, Your Grace, but the King has not made any decisions yet that mean any harm for the realm."

Rhaegar shook his head in frustration.

"My father has summoned the Warden of the North and the Lord of Casterly Rock here and means to punish them for crimes they have not committed. If this were to happen, the consequences will be grave."

The High Septon seemed to take his words to mind.

"But Your Grace, until the King commits a sin in the eyes of the Seven, the Sept is not to interfere in his matters."

Rhaegar wanted to raise his voice, but doing so would perhaps make the High Septon take his words even more lightly. The Prince weighed his options. He could tell his father the real reason behind his letters, but that could cause even more unease and there were chances that Aerys wouldn't believe him. It would furthermore ruin their relations with the North, if he were to announce Lyanna's pregnancy before his father and make her a victim of rumours and dishonor. What could he do now?

What could he do but wait?.

And so he did, until the day Tywin Lannister and Lord Stark arrived.

"This is the only option, Your Grace," Jon said. Rhaegar put his head in his hands. His mother would _never_ forgive him for this, but Jon wasn't wrong.

"I demand trial by combat," were the words that finally spilled out of Tywin Lannister's lips.

Unlike Lord Stark, Lord Lannister _was_ one of Rhaegar's allies. Rhaegar had known that he would need the support of the kingdoms and he knew he had Dorne on his side, so he had sought out Set Jaime for the support of his father. Tywin Lannister was a cunning man. Rhaegar did not know what profit he had seen in the alliance, but he had soon found himself on the same side as the Lannister.

But Rickard Stark was an oblivious man, and that is what made Rhaegar feel ashamed. The Targaryens had never been fond of praying, but now he prayed to the Seven to forgive him for his sins.

Stark had no idea as to why he had been summoned to the Court, but when he had learnt the truth of it, he had tried to convince the King that he wasn't guilty. But Aerys was not one to listen, already having decided who was guilty and who was not, and in the end, Rhaegar had seen hope fade away from the man's eyes.

 _May the Gods forgive me._

"And you Lord Stark?" The King asked.

Rickard Stark held in a breath.

"I demand the same," he said, and did not lower his head as he did so. "And I choose myself as my champion."

"And Lord Tywin?"

The Lord opened his mouth but another voice was heard instead of his own.

"I will stand as my Lord Father's champion."

Ser Jaime came forward. He received a glare from his father but he could no longer take back his words. Rhaegar felt his blood boiling.

"Then I shall choose my champion as well," the King said. He clapped his hands and an old, disfigured man walked forward with his face covered with a cloak.

"And my champion is-"

He looked at Rhaegar and for a moment Rhaegar wondered if he meant to make him his champion.

"Fire."

He clapped once, then before anything else could happen or anyone could intervene, the old man lighted a fire and the court screamed in horror as the flames ate Rickard Stark alive. It spread like wildfire and the flames burned unbridled and wild. The man screamed and screamed until his voice could no longer be heard. Minutes went by as he lay on the floor in a mass of ashes and charred bones.

"Is this enough for your Gods?!" Rhaegar shouted suddenly, looking at the Septon.

The King ignored his vague declaration and clapped again for the fire to be directed at Ser Jaime. But Tywin Lannister pushed his son forcefully out of the way, and stepped forward instead.

Rhaegar looked at the Septon and the man nodded frantically.

"Arrest my father!" Rhaegar ordered at the top of his lungs.

Tywin Lannister had already been half engulfed in flames but then at Rhaegar's voice, Ser Jaime tore his white cloak and beat it over the fire. The entirety of his father's back was burned, but it was stopped, and he held his Father in his arms.

Four Kingsguard dragged the King from his Throne and another knocked the pyromancer out.

"How dare you?!" The King shouted. "Treason! This is treason!"

"In the sight of the Gods, you have committed a sin," Rhaegar declared, loud enough for everyone in the room to hear. Everyone had one deathly still, and none moved from their places. The events had everyone shaken to their core. "You are mad, Father and therefore unfit to rule."

The King screamed in rage.

"The Faith agrees," the High Septon added.

They dragged his father away amidst his threats to burn everyone alive. Rhaegar took a deep breath and closed his eyes. Opening them, he turned to look at the pile of ashes that was once Rickard Stark, and guilt enveloped his chest. Tywin Lannister was being carried to the infirmary.

"It had to be done," Jon whispered in his ear.

Rhaegar nodded. It was a sacrifice he had to make. His conscience would never forgive him, but he had stopped the rule of cruelty of his father. For now, that was enough.

"Your Grace."

He turned to see the Septon with the crown of the Seven Kingdoms in his hands.

"Your Crown," the High Septon told him.

* * *

So, I want to make something clear: that this is a Jon/Arya story and _not_ a Rhaegar/Lyanna story. These few chapters (first four or five chapters) are the prequel of the story, then we will skip twenty years to the present. So, for the reviewer who told me that they won't be reading this because of Rhaegar/Lyanna, I want to tell you that this is not their story. However, if I do not add the prequel, things will noy make sense in the present storyline.

Thank you.


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